


The Turmoil

by my_soul_is_fire



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Castiel-centric, Castiel/Dean Winchester-centric, Coda, Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), Love Confessions, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Castiel, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 20:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9843638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_soul_is_fire/pseuds/my_soul_is_fire
Summary: (Castiel thought Dean understood that these three words were meant for him only. He thought he was about to be free, for he wouldn't have to face Dean's reaction once he'd be dead. But it's not like anything ever goes the way he wants.)Torn between the desire to admit his feelings and the one to keep Dean's friendship, certain he came close to making a mistake, Cas promises himself he will not try to open his heart again.But sometimes, feelings are too heavy to be carried and suddenly, he's a world tumbling down and Dean is left alone with his thoughts and too many words left unsaid, as well with two broken hearts to heal...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so as always I'm late to the party but here I come with full angst, pain, love confessions and more pain!  
> Enjoy!

It feels like a fire in his chest.

Or a violent, cruel ocean breaking against his ribs.

He doesn’t know anymore.

Castiel knows that by his nature, he’s not supposed to feel. Angels are beings made of steel and ice. They’re dauntless creatures whose cries rip the skies apart, whose hands can crush earth and bones. They have this power, this way of holding their chin high and proud that shakes the fear in every man.

He was once like this, a mind blank and cold as his steps were thundering in the ether or the soil beneath his feet. He never felt such things as fear, pity, or compassion.

Never did he ever feel joy, for it could blind him and make him believe the Universe was brighter than it actually was. Neither would he feel such an useless emotion as sorrow, for there was no point in weeping when Death or Fate already took what it came to steal.

And Love?

There were obscure tales about it in Heaven. It was said there was such a feeling, so raw and voracious it could eat someone alive in the span of a few breaths. He remembers smelling the angels’ doubt in the air, acrid in the clouds, as they would shake their wings, afraid such a distraction could walk them out of the righteous path.

He also remembered the Archangels brushing their worries with a spark of their golden halos. No, they were not made to love, and as long as they stayed away from humans, this shivering, weak race living down the sky, they would never feel such ache in their divine light.

Castiel spent centuries with a faith so strong it blinded him. Sure, the word _love_ would float around him sometimes, and he couldn’t deny he felt an irritating interest about it. It rose so many questions in his being he often felt overwhelmed by their weight. But he never doubted the words his Father and brothers spoke to him.

Their place in this world was not among humans, it was _above_ them. Never could they walk in their midst or they would turn into creatures as miserable as them.

He remembered hearing stories about some angels who got too close to them. They were never the same after, never quite. It was as if some sickly brush had painted dirty brown and black over their pure ethereal bodies. When they came back, if they did, they weren’t shining as strongly as before, as if they were now carrying the stench of their mistakes.

The first time he felt the sting of emotion was when he was sent to Earth for an important mission. One of his brother had committed something that could never be forgiven: he had fallen in love with a human and together they created an abomination, a child that was never even meant to exist.

Crossing the grass covered of dew of their garden, he was sure he was doing the right thing. His vessel, a woman with bright intelligent blue eyes and a strong and proud soul, contained his grace perfectly and he felt more powerful than ever.

And yet, when he heard the woman’s scream as her child’s life was taken away, something unthinkable happened.

A cold, brutal shiver ran down his spine and he flinched. He flinched and suddenly it felt like all the mother’s pain was now flowing through him and he couldn’t keep this devastating wave at bay, he couldn’t save himself from this sudden rush that left him sore to the bone.

He who used to be made of rough, unbreakable gold _shivered_ and for the first time he felt something. Not that he quite realized it was already too late for him, but that sudden glacial wind on his grace left him doubtful.

 

And then he blinks and suddenly he’s there, laying in that damn cold barn, pain moving like a hungry beast in his guts, blood flowing thick and warm on his skin as black veins of poison create lightning bolts on his flesh.

His breathing is quick, painful and the world is spinning around him, each time his chest rises something hot and terrible goes off like a divine bomb behind his ribs.

All his limbs are shivering, his head is heavy and he has hard time keeping his eyes on the silhouettes around him. He blinks and he sees Mary, her short blonde hair around her face, her stare dark and worried. He blinks again and he sees Sam, pain spread all across his features and he sees in his troubled irises he’s searching for a solution, a cure, _anything_ , and his mind seems to race at the speed of light.

And then he blinks again and he sees him. Dean. Who always seems to be so strong and rough, his heart surrounded by fire and mountains so no emotion can pierce its armor.

And yet Castiel thinks he sees a somber veil falling on Dean’s eyes, and all his limbs seem to be tense, and there’s a slight twitch on his face as he looks at him, and suddenly Castiel feels very vulnerable under that deep, moving stare.

The roles were once the opposite when Castiel looked down on Dean as this one was burning up in Hell, his body broken and miserable.

But there, it’s him, the angel, the Shield of God, he who lived through millenniums, who is weak and trembling. He knows his last moments have arrived and though he already lived more than any human could imagine, he feels like it’s too soon.

He feels like there are so many things he has yet to do, so many words stuck in his dry mouth as his grace flickers behind his bones.

Before he can even realize, he has taken a deep breath and suddenly he speaks. It flows through him like a river and all his grief and pain shape into sounds. The edges of his vision seem to turn black and burning.

It comes naturally. He just has to speak the truth. All his memories are soft, warm and rough, amber colored, and they smell like leather, gasoline and gun powder. Gone are the immaculate ones, whiter than the snow.

“You’re my family” he whispers through the fog his wound is throwing on his mind. He’s honest. He never thought he would meet such stubborn, shining souls. He never thought he would feel so good so far from the skies that saw his birth as a star, so far from the silence that heard the first flutter of his wings.

 

And suddenly, a thought.

His grace holds its breath and all his being is waiting for the words to come out, and his heart is thundering in his chest, he feels the blood pulsing wild and free in his veins and he dares to glance at Dean. It only lasts for a brief, painful second and yet it feels like the moment drips like honey, falls slow and time stretches and snaps as he opens his mouth again.

“I love you” he says and the clarity of it surprises him. Even though sweat rolls down his skin, and his body is sore and heavy, and his head threatens him to fall into the blackness, his words are bright, and everything he feels bursts through them.

From the corner of this eye he sees Dean turning his head, frowning, his expression unreadable and Castiel’s heart freezes. He said too much. Dean may accept many things, but not this. Not now. It’s not the time to deal with feelings he doesn’t want to know about.

So Castiel blinks and swallows a bitter feeling back. “I love all of you” he adds, and even though it feels like a small weight is taken out of his chest, what he said still is the same. He cannot take it back, and even if he could, he wouldn’t. He spent too many years with these words bubbling in his heart and now that he set them free, he cannot take the burden of them back.

And once again it’s the truth. He loves Sam and Mary. Very deeply, as much as his weakened little grace can, from the bottom of his heart that seems to be just a well of despair lately. They refuse to abandon him, and he grits his teeth because he cannot see them die, he cannot bear the weight of their loss even in Death.

 

The rest is a poisonous fog in his head and suddenly the light breaks in, bright, celestial blue. It fills him whole and he the river dried up becomes an ocean once again.

 

The brothers help him to get up and Sam’s grip is strong, determinate. Dean’s, on the other side, seems nearly desperate, his knuckles turning white as his warm palm seems to linger a little too long in Cas’, but Castiel sighs and walks away, the heat of Dean’s skin against his disappearing like a ghost, with a faint sigh.

Though he cannot help but let his fingers brush against the back of Dean’s hand, for he’s sure he will not have any other chance to open his heart again.

His feelings are out in the open and he cannot catch them back in his fingers, they flutter like mad birds in the clouded sky. They weep as the words carrying them were probably misunderstood and so it’ll always stay like this.

For he who has all the time in the world, it’s too late. He spoke and it didn’t change a thing. He now has to bear what never was and what could never be.

 

X

 

After they left the barn and “home” snapped in Dean’s mouth, spreading warm in Castiel’s heart, the night fell back on his soul.

The ride to the bunker was mostly silent. He sat in the front with Dean as Sam and Mary drove his own car behind them. He protested a little but Dean refused to let him behind the wheel after what happened. Even though Castiel cherished every moment he spent with the hunter, he felt the worry like an iron ball in his throat as he settled on the soft leather of the Impala, Dean so close and so far from him.

Castiel kept his mouth shut, fearing he would empty his grace of all his feelings again and he couldn’t keep himself from ruining everything. Dean was his friend and never could he live without this bond between them.

 

(Was it selfish if deep down the light in his bones, he wished they could be something else? Something _more_?)

 

Castiel was staring at the light. The stars nearly invisible in the thickness of the night, the lampposts throwing flickering rays of light on each side of the road, the front beams illuminating the dust in front of them as the engine would growl under his body.

He thought he heard Dean call his name but he frowned and focused on the trees dark and tall, side by side with the black ribbon of the road. When he heard it again, louder this time with a hint of worry in it, he turned his head and crossed Dean’s stare, his green eyes drowned in darkness.

“Hey, you OK?” Dean asked, glancing briefly at the road before he turned back to Castiel.

“I’m fine” Castiel whispered in return, lowering his head to escape from Dean’s eyes.

There was a little beat of his heart where everything was silent before he heard a small sigh from Dean. “No you’re not.” he said and as Castiel dared to give him a look, he saw his hands gripping the wheel tighter, his fingers white like the moon outside.

“Dean-” Castiel started before the hunters cut him off, his jaw clenched, his look somber on the angel.

“You almost died, Cas” he said and the sound of his name in Dean’s mouth made him shiver in an imperceptible way.

“I know” he muttered back. “It was not the first time anyway.”

Dean turned his head to give him an incredulous look. “Are you hearing yourself?” he snapped before he softened when he saw wide blue eyes giving him a fearful look back. “We almost lost you!” He stopped for a second, swallowed hardly. “ _I_ almost lost you.” 

“I’m sorry” Castiel said. “I failed you.” He shook his head, now realizing his weakness could have caused all the Winchester’s death, for he wasn’t there to protect them or buy them some time to escape.

“This isn’t about that, Cas!” Dean said, and the angel turned at him when he hears the hint of despair piercing in his voice. “If Crowley didn’t find how to cure you, you-” he started before his words are cut and he clenched his fists on the wheel. 

“I would have died” Castiel finished for him. “But you would have had your family.” 

“I don’t care” Dean snapped and this time Castiel’s eyes opened wide of surprise. The hunter’s head turned to him again. “You know you matter to me, right?” he said, his voice low and hoarse. 

Castiel lowered his head, his breath stuck in his lungs. Silence fell between them and Dean clenched his jaw, the words racing through his head as he tried to find the right ones to explain the turmoil in his chest. 

“What you said back there...” he started, and his mouth was dry, his tongue heavy as he tried to express what he couldn’t believe. “That you… loved us.” 

 _You_ , Castiel almost corrected. Though he didn’t, keeping the words close to his chest.

Dean observed the beams of light on the road before he took a small, shaking breath. “You’re our family, Cas, I don’t know how many times I’ll have to tell you, but you belong here.” he said, gesturing around him and Castiel was unsure if he talked about the world or the seat of the Impala by his side. It was pretty much the same thing for him.

 

They arrived at a crossroad and though the city was asleep, the night seemed to swarm with emotion. The traffic light cast bright red on Dean’s face, turning his eyes electric, sharpening his features. He turned to look at Castiel who suddenly felt breathless.

“We love you too” Dean finally said in one breath, as if it was costing him all his strength to release those words. He had a short sigh afterward, blinked and kept his eyes closed for a little too long.

“Thank you” Castiel whispered in return and he hated himself for wanting to turn the _we_ into an _I_. Dean saw him as his family, as part of a whole and we was speaking in Sam and Mary’s name too. It wasn’t personal.

The light turned green and the engine roared and Castiel’s eyes got lost into the stars again.

_It wasn’t personal._

 

And it would never be.

 

X

 

From that moment, Castiel wanted to make Dean understand, at the very least.

Make him understand he was talking to him in the first place, that even though he loved all his family on Earth, he was selfish enough to ask for more and that no matter how hard he tried not to, he would always love him more than Sam or Mary or anyone.

 

He hates to think it. _Dean_ would hate it.

To know Castiel’s head instinctively turned to him during a battle to check on him, before turning to Sam. To know he preferred his company, to know that he would trade any other moment to spend it with him. To know he never had a hunter’s heart and the only reason he was there now, was because of him.

To know that when when both the brothers burst out of the trees after escaping the prison, he felt relieved to see Sam alive and well and accepted the embrace to greet him and his heart ached a little when he realized his friend was back to him. But when Dean approached and passed an arm around his shoulders, he felt like breaking inside and suddenly Dean was already gone to collapse against his mother.

To know that he was _jealous_ of the love he could never have. Because he was just a little piece glued to them, and even Mary who spent more than thirty years in Death already found her place among her boys.

 

So he closes his mouth and accepts the way it is.

He doesn’t say anything when he doesn’t hear from Dean for days, when he knows Mary is with them.

He doesn’t say anything when Dean seems a little away from him, when they barely talk through the day and when it feels like he will never be able to reach for him.

He doesn’t say anything when Dean smiles at the women walking down the street or at the waitresses bringing them their meals.

He just feels like there’s a knot in his guts, a ball of iron on his lungs.

He is not asking for Dean to feel the same way, not really, even though it haunts his dreams and nightmares. He is just asking for Dean to accept this feeling ablaze that roars in his heart. To accept he’s loved.

He can’t help but feel a bitter emotion gnawing at his bones when he sees Dean is ready to accept all the attention and affection all these strangers can give him but he refuses, or so Castiel thinks, what is right in front of him.

 

But it’s not like he can do much about it.

He is determined to be silent about it for eternity.

 

Until one day, where it’s just _too much_.

 

They have been on a hunt, when a woman said she saw her younger sister being abducted by some man with long fangs. After the usual research and interviewing, they found a vampire nest hidden in the woods, and though they were quite unsure if the sister was still alive or not, they decided to give it a try on their own.

The woman was called May. She had long smooth hair and wide starry brown eyes. She had a soft, yet bright and fizzing aura and her smile seemed to be brighter than the sun. Since the beginning, she wanted to know all the details of their investigation. After sharing a look, the brothers decided to reveal her all the supernatural world as it was, and even if she looked a little doubtful and afraid for the first minute, her interest in it seemed to bloom immediately right after.

When she asked to come with them, they refused at first, but she was stubborn and seemed strong minded, and so they gave in. They knew she had not much chances to stay alive, but she seemed so sure and desperate to find her sister that the brothers couldn’t help but think of the way they both put themselves in danger for each other.

May seemed to quickly grow fond of Castiel, even though he was sure he wasn’t quite good company lately, all his worries about Lucifer’s child and his feelings for Dean scratching inside his head all day long, making him tense and bitter.

When she asked to come with him in his car, Dean came close to him, so close Castiel felt his breath on his ear. “She’s into you, Cas.” he stopped, a strange wide grin on his face. “Might wanna see her again after the hunt?” he asked and Castiel felt his heart sinking in his chest.

 

Maybe if Dean knew he would stop trying to throw him in the arms of first stranger to come.

 

May was nice and understanding. She knew when to be quiet and when to express her ideas on the plan. She was both strong and soft, and she cared deeply about her sister. She was one of the kindest human beings Castiel has ever met, and her warm presence felt so strange after all the ache he’s been through lately.

When they arrived near the nest, a small house surrounded by tall pines, she asked for a weapon to defend herself, just in case, and after a moment where Dean seemed to think, he finally handed her a blade, shining bright and silver under the moon.

“Here, angel blade just for you” he says, grinning despite the gravity of the situation they were about to face. “That’s right, angels exist too.” he said, his eyes fluttering on Castiel and his smile seems to get lost a little.

May’s whispers the word _angel_ again, her eyes opening wide in awe as her pale hands hold the blade carefully, watching the smooth surface glimmer in her fingers. Dean smiles again and gives Castiel another knowing look, to what the angel answers by turning around and walking away, leaving the hunter confused.

Castiel must admit he enjoys May by his side. She only acknowledged the existence of monsters a few hours ago and yet she is fearless, her eyes dark and fixed strong on the house as her steps are sure and it looks like she always belonged among the Winchester, the blade gripped tight in her hand.

 

Turned out all the vampires were dead and if they did took her sister in the first place, a demon was now holding her captive, forcing her to make a deal to set her free. As the sister seemed as stubborn as May, she kept refusing and endured all the tortures evil can find.

Castiel admits his heart had a surprised beat when the Winchester were both thrown across the room and fell with a thud on the floor, and suddenly all went so fast, and May dived the blade in the demon’s back, her teeth clenched of effort.

When his body fell, she immediately ran to her sister to make sure she was alright and both of them collapsed in a desperate embrace. Castiel blinked because over this vision, memories of the Winchester were overlaid and it felt like he already saw this in the past.

 

They are now on the motel’s parking lot and as May helps her sister sitting in her car, a blanket around her shoulders, the brothers walk to him and after a moment where they stare at the two women in silence, Dean walks around Castiel to face him.

“You should talk to her” he says with a smile that’s so gentle that it unsettles Castiel.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“May” Dean says, turning briefly to look at her before he stares back at the angel. “I think she likes you. _A lot._ And believe me, you don’t want to to miss an opportunity” he adds, putting his hand on Cas' shoulder. He then sighs and lets his fingers fall back on his side, before he walks back to Sam, a knot in his stomach. 

 

He doesn't see Castiel giving him a look full of hurt, feeling like he's been pushed away like a piece of furniture you don't want anymore. He swallows his grief back and walks to May, his heart sinking in his chest.

 

From afar, the Winchesters watch them, pulled by curiosity.

“I don’t think he’s interested, Dean” Sam says after a moment, making his brother turn to him, frowning. 

“What?” he asks, turning back to the angel and May. This one is blushing heavily, her eyes fluttering everywhere but on Castiel. She is tying her fingers together in a nervous move before she pulls out a small piece of paper and a pen, writes something quickly on it and then hands it to Cas. “I mean, why wouldn’t he want to settle down with someone who understands what he’s been through and who cares about him?” 

“I mean, I don’t think he’s interested in _her_ ” Sam says and when Dean turns to him, he is staring at his brother, his look saying more than his words.

Dean is about to ask him the meaning of what he just said when his brother turns back and heads to the motel room. “What are you doing?” Dean asks, frowning. “You don’t want to know how it’ll go?” He smirks. “You owe me 20 dollars if he calls her after that.” 

Sam shakes his head with a soft laugh. “No, I’m gonna let you two talk about it.” He has a knowing smile. “I’ll be waiting for my 20 dollars” he says before he shuts the door behind him.

 

Dean rolls his eyes and as he turns back he sees Castiel walking to him, and May’s car driving away in the night. He waits until the angel is standing next to him under the faded neon lights before he takes a short, shaking breath and turns his head to him.

“So?” he asks, and the smile spreading on his lip feels a little forced.

“So what?” Castiel asks, and his voice is terribly low, exhausted, as if he was sore to the bone, as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“How did it go?” Dean asks, feeling like he’s going to have to rip the words out of Cas’ mouth. “Did you get her number?”

Castiel dives his hand in one pocket of his trenchcoat and takes out a rumpled paper. “She gave it to me, yes.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “And? Are you going to call her back or?” 

As an answer, Castiel turns back and throws the paper into the trashcan outside the motel room and walks back next to Dean, silent like the night. 

The hunter gives him an incredulous look. “Why did you do that?” he exclaims. “She’s going to wait for you to call her!”

“No she won’t.” Castiel answers calmly.

“Why not?” Dean says, frowning of confusion. It’s not like they meet girls who aren’t afraid of the supernatural world _and_ are into them everyday. He fears Castiel is missing a chance to start a new life, a real life. 

“I told her I wasn’t interested in any romantic relationship with her.” the angel says and the wind moves a few strands of his hair.

“But Cas-” Dean starts, now desperate. It feels like there are some deeper problem to Castiel refusing to at least try. As if there would be consequences he could not bear. Dean shakes his head, trying to understand. “She knows about the monsters and all the crap we hunt! She is apparently good at killing them when she never learned! She knows what’s like to almost loose someone you care about! And she already saw you as a friend, so what’s stopping you!?”

 

And then Castiel’s mind goes blank.

 

He takes a long, trembling breath. He lowers his eyes to look at both their shadows thrown on the ground, the neon lights ethereal behind them.

The silence falls heavy on them and he tries to speak, even opens his mouth once but nothing wants to come out. Ash and dust are filling his throat and for the first time since they left the barn, tears rise to his eyes and threaten to flow free. He clenches his fists by his side, and fights against the mystical pull to turn to Dean he feels in his stomach.

This one stares at him, frowning of confusion and worry, afraid he said something wrong and pushed the angel to the edge where he was standing. He did notice how tense and cold Castiel seemed to be for the past few days, as if something triggered a dark, cruel feeling in him and it kept unraveling with each second that passed.

“Cas?” he softly asks “You can tell me” he says, and he feels so awful for not doing this more. To talk about everything and anything, even if he’s not great a words, even if he has hard time expressing how he feels inside.

 

But there it’s different. It’s Cas.

 

Who turns slowly to him and raises his head, but his eyes are still avoiding him. He seems about to collapse, as if he could break in two and an ocean would burst out of him, leaving nothing but foam and threads of grace.

“Because-” he starts and Dean is startled by the shaking in his voice, the pain that is clear and transparent in it. It’s the same voice he used in the barn not so long ago.

“Why did you push her away?” Dean asks as gently as possible.

 

And suddenly the ocean breaks free.

 

“She may know about monsters, and she could be a hunter, and she may know what’s like to loose someone you love but-” Castiel takes a deep breath, clenching his fists and he gives up, he cannot hold the water anymore. “She doesn’t make these references I never get, and she doesn’t have this undying love for her car.” He has a small smile but his eyes are sadder than ever. “She doesn’t have that strange obsession with pies, and this terrible sense of humor, and she doesn’t constantly disagree with everything I say. She may love her sister but she wouldn’t do _anything_ to save her family, and she’ll never truly know what this life is like, she’ll not understand everything I saw.” He takes another deep breath that only seems to create a fire inside his lungs. “She’s not the bravest, most amazing human being I’ve ever met, and she couldn’t change me the way I’ve changed because of that person. She-”His voice breaks, he gathers his strength, holding back a sob. “-she is not the one I’ve pulled from Hell, and she’s not the one I care most about, the one I’m always afraid of losing. She’s not the one I rebelled for, and not the one I fell for. She is not my greatest weakness, my human weakness. She-”

 

He stops and he feels like he just opened a breach into another world, a world of despair, and he curses himself for speaking so much, for letting his emotions run free, for giving in to the soft songs of Truth.

He fights against the fear bubbling hot and terrifying inside him and raises his head to stare at Dean.

The hunter looks at him without blinking, breathless, his face like a mask of every human emotion in one. His eyes are open wide, shiny and his mouth is half open, as if he was about to say something, and even if he looks more tormented than Castiel has ever seen him, he’s nothing but light in this moment.

Castiel closes his eyes for a second, knowing nothing he will say or do will change what he has just done. He opens them again and Dean is still here, it’s not a dream and his green eyes are still diving into his, and Castiel may be lost in emotion, but he swears he saw them become glassy in a few seconds.

 

Castiel takes a deep breath, and steadies his voice and he’s calm now.

“She is not you” he finally whispers, and he realizes he’s not shivering anymore, he’s numb, cold, empty and he barely sees through his lashes and tears. He clenches his jaw and waits for the storm, waits for Dean to become angry, confused, disgusted, _anything_ so he wouldn’t have to face his own hurricane growing inside.

 

But Dean is not doing anything, he keeps staring at him without a word, his mouth opening and closing as if he was about to say something, but he doesn’t.

He stares at him and barely breathes, and his stare gets heavier on Castiel, and suddenly he feels the pain growing back in his belly.

The barn was nothing, just a desperate handful of words thrown into the empty but now… This is the point of no return, and he knows he just made the greatest mistake of all his existence.

 

Dean is never going to look at him the same. He’s never going to talk at him the same because he’ll know.

And Sam and Mary will probably know soon after. And nothing will be the same.

 

Seeing Dean still doesn’t react, Castiel closes his eyes for a few seconds, breathes in the cold air of the night before he steps back, his throat tight of sorrow.

“Goodnight Dean” he whispers before he turns back and heads directly to his car.

 

He clenches his fists for he swears he heard Dean calling his name, but it was just a weak whisper, a broken cry that didn’t hold much faith, so he gets in, slams the door and drives away, not daring to look behind.

 

Dean stands where he is way after he stopped hearing the engine growling on the road. He blinks and it’s like he realizes he’s alive, like he’s a part of this world and not just some being watching it from outside. He sips a small breath in and finally gets inside.

Sam is still awake, sitting on his bed with his laptop and he raises his head with a smirk. “So where are my twenty-”

He stops mid sentence and his smile fades away when he sees Dean’s distraught expression, his haunted eyes, his breathing rapid as he seems to be lost in his own body.

Sam pushes the computer aside and gets up, a worried frown darkening his eyes. “Dean, what’s wrong?” He walks to him and for one of those rare times, he sees his brother small and vulnerable, shivering even if the room is warm and soothing.

Sam slowly raises a hand to put it on Dean’s shoulder, careful as if he was a little, scared animal and Dean flinches under the touch, his eyes still looking around, full of a devastating fever.

 

He then raises them to cross Sam’s stare and his heartbeats sound loud and clear in his ears.

“What did I just do?” he whispers.

 

X

 

Several days pass and he doesn’t hear from Cas.

 

Not a call, not a text. He starts worrying that something bad has happened to him and he starts to think he lost him for good, and this time not into Death, but in some world where the two of them breathing in the same room would feel too heavy, and eventually they would have to walk away to keep on living.

He starts worrying it was the last time he saw him, until he walks into kitchen one morning to hear Sam talking over the phone. He waits patiently that he’s finished, shifting his weight from one foot to another, his eyes lost into space.

It’s only when he hears Sam saying “OK, bye Cas” and hanging up that he dives completely into consciousness and he raises his stare to his brother, his heart beating fast.

“It was Cas?” he asks in a whisper.

“Yeah” Sam answers, frowning at him. “What’s going on with you two? Did you have a fight or something?” he asks, pushing a cup of steaming coffee to Dean.

“No” Dean says sitting in front of his brother. After Cas left the motel, Sam tried to talk to him and rip the words out of his mouth but nothing worked. Eventually, Sam sighed and let him fall onto his bed, but not before he made him promised to talk to him if he ever felt the need. “No.” he repeats, lowering his head to dive his eyes into the hot beverage. 

“Well, then why isn’t he calling _you_?” Sam asks, still frowning at Dean. “I mean, it _looks_ like you had a fight.” 

“Why?” Dean asks in a slow, tired voice. Then, his eyes open a little wider. “Did he say something?” 

“Nothing special. He’s still looking for a lead to find Kelly.” 

“Ah” Dean simply says before he takes a mouthful of his coffee. His back hurts like hell. Blame it on the sleepless nights. 

Sam drinks for a while before he has a thin, almost invisible smile. “He also asked how you were.” 

Dean raises his eyes to him, like electrified. “Really?” he says a bit too loud. Sam nods, his smile growing wider but Dean doesn’t notice. “Did you ask him how _he_ was?”

“Of course” Sam answers. “But you know what?” he asks and Dean gives him a questioning look. “You’ll just have to ask him yourself.”

Dean looks startled. “What?”

“I told him about the hunt I found – you know the one I told you about yesterday – and I asked him if he wanted to help. And he said yes.” Sam says, with a slight shrug. 

“He’s coming?” Dean asks, doubtful.

“Yeah” Sam says, now completely amused by the disbelief he sees on his brother’s face. “Why is that so hard to believe?” 

“It’s just that-” Dean stops, thinks for a second before he passes a hand in his short hair. “I didn’t think he would come so soon after-”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “After what?”

“Nevermind” Dean says before he takes his coffee and walks away.

 

He walks to his room, shuts the door behind him and stop there, leans against it, his eyes wide open like a mad man.

What is he gonna do? What is he gonna _say_?

Last time he tried to speak, nothing came out of his damn mouth and Castiel walked away, visibly hurt by, at the very least, his lack of reaction.

 _He probably thought_ _I_ _didn’t care_ , Dean thinks and it shatters his heart. That’s not what he wanted. Not at all.

But now Cas is coming, and he doesn’t know how he will react. Will he ignore him? Will he pretend nothing happened and life will go on as always?

 

Will he ever give Dean another chance?

 

Probably not. It’s not the kind of thing you can break and then fix later.

Castiel opened his heart to him, trusted him with something so deep and intense that it needed him to be in the arms of Death to confess it in the first place, Dean realizes, frozen with dread.

 

He would like some time to gather his thoughts and be ready to talk to him, and not act like a complete fool this time.

But he’s not breathed for two minutes that Sam is knocking on his door, telling him to be ready, for they have to meet up with Castiel and there are at least two hours of driving ahead of them.

 

Dean’s heart gets stuck in his throat and he feels it beating there, in his mouth as he slowly gets dressed, his hands cold and numb. He joins his brother who covers him with a gentle look as he puts a duffel bag against his chest.

“C’mon” he says, clapping his shoulder as they walk up the stairs.

 

Dean’s hands are shaking as he starts the engine and when the road starts unraveling in front of him, he feels his mind crumbling into pieces.

 

X

 

His fists are clenched in his pockets.

He keeps moving, circling around the car, making sure they didn’t forget anything, looking around for any threat.

 

He looks like a stream of water, a thread of wind: impossible to catch, to control.

 

Sam’s eyes follow him, half worried, half amused. “Are you OK?” he asks and Dean turns to him, his mad stare piercing through him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why?” he says.

Sam looks at his slightly disheveled hair, his eyes swollen and dull of sleeplessness, the almost imperceptible shaking in his limbs, and of course the way he cannot stand still for more than twenty seconds.

“I don’t know, you tell me” Sam answers. “Are you nervous?” 

“OK, would you stop?” Dean snaps, his features twitching of annoyance. “I’m just-” he starts before his eyes flutter behind Sam and he stops mid sentence, freezing on his feet. 

Sam turns around to see Castiel’s truck arriving slowly and parking behind the Impala, close to the dinner that’s already bright and crowded. He then looks back at his brother who looks electrified, his eyes fixed strong on the angel’s car.

 

Sam doubts Dean will be any good in this hunt, for he looks wilder than the monsters they come after.

 

Castiel gets out of the car, his usual tan coat and tie noticeable from afar, at least for them. In a few steps he’s standing in front of them. 

“Sam.” he says, greeting him first as he’s the closest. 

“Hey Cas” he answers with a grin.

 

Dean freezes, sure the angel is going to pretend he doesn’t exist, but to his greatest surprise, and pain, Castiel turns to him and suddenly bright blue eyes are diving into his. 

“Hello Dean” he says, his voice low and calm, far from the shaking, raspy one he used nights ago.

 

Dean blurts his name and makes a step closer but the angel’s attention has already turned back to Sam, as they are quickly setting a plan to catch the demons that are apparently possessing a whole family. 

Dean swallows down and turns to his brother, trying to focus on what he has to do, instead of what he should have done. A few minutes after they’re ready to go and as Sam suggested, they walk to the neighborhood instead of using the cars that may be a little too noticeable and loud to be discreet.

 

Sam walks in the front, his steps fast and sure, as Dean and Castiel follow him behind.

 

Dean doesn’t know what he should do. Act like nothing happened and make a small talk about the freaking weather? Talk about it and probably worsen the situation?

He closes his eyes for a second and clenches his jaw. One thing he’s sure of, is that he’s not going to do nothing.

 

He walks a bit faster to arrive next to Castiel. “Listen-” he starts, and the words are already getting stuck in his throat. “I’m sorry” he finally says, turning to look at the angel.

This one doesn’t give his look back. “For what?” he gently whispers, and this is not the Cas Dean is used to. He’s not awkward or dreamy and neither is he serious and quite, well, _angelic_. He’s silent, looking small and fragile, nothing but a speck of dust for the wind to take.

“I didn’t want to-”

“It’s OK, Dean” Castiel cuts him and this time he turns to him. His eyes are unreadable and Dean knows he has lost any chance to finally say what he was holding back. “I understand.”

“But-” 

Dean bites his tongue, an acid feeling rising in his stomach. Did he really think it’d be that easy, that he would just have to start talking and then it’d be all good, and he’d finally have the opportunity to express his feelings?

 

Never in a Winchester’s life did it happen this way.

 

He’s about to say something when Sam shouts his name and he turns his head to see a man with black eyes walking fast to another, very human and innocently watering his bushes, before he snaps his neck in one quick motion under his wife’s eyes, and her scream reaches Dean right in his chest.

He grits his teeth and suddenly they run after him and burst into the house the demons made their own.

 

Suddenly several black eyed creatures are jumping on him and he sees Sam being thrown across the room, and all he can think about are the nails trying to scratch his eyelids and the feet kicking him in the stomach and the strong taste of blood in his mouth.

He rolls on the floor and spits it out, leaving a dirty dark stain on the wood before he gets up, angel blade in hand. Sam also stood up again and after a few moments of struggling with a blonde haired woman, he finally manages to dive his knife in her back and after a few spits of light, she falls on the floor, lifeless.

Dean manages to grab his phone and is about to make the exorcism sound loud and clear in the room when another demon jumps on him and it flies away from his hand and crashes a few feet away.

 

He groans and pushes the tall man who attacked him away, before he dives the blade in his chest. He hates this. He hates when he has to kill them, because it means the vessel dies at the same time. One life wasted in a blink of the eye.

He stands up breathless and looks around to see most of the demons are lying dead and he’s about to have a little smile of victory when he sees Sam falling on the floor, a bad looking wound already bleeding on his leg, as a demon walks slowly to him, hands already reaching out to him.

Dean shouts but it doesn’t stop the monster, only makes another jumps on him from behind and pushes him on his knees. This one has an incredible strength and no matter how hard Dean tries to move from his grip, the demon forces him to stay here, helpless.

 

Castiel is fighting against two of them, all alone, his face tense of concentration. One quick move of his hand and his blade dives into a stomach, one body falls. He then hears Sam’s hurt sound behind him and turns his head back to see the young Winchester in the worst situation he could imagine.

The angel seems to think for less than a second before he pushes the demon he’s fighting away and turns to head directly to Sam. He stabs the monster walking to him between his shoulder blades and immediately squats next to Sam to check on him. 

Sam sits straight and winces when he sees blood spurting out of his wound, before he raises his eyes, and they open wide as he tries to speak.

 

But too late.

 

The demon that was left grabs the back of Cas’ coat and hauls him away from Sam, throwing him on the floor in such a violence the angel lets out a cry of pain when his spine hits the wood. 

Dean feels his heart beating faster and in a last rush of adrenaline his elbow kicks the demon in the throat and he escapes his grip, turns back and stabs him right in his chest, all his body sore and tired.

 

He turns back to look at Sam, bleeding out and already looking too pale and weak, his hair soaked in sweat falling in front of his eyes. Dean is about to walk to him when a motion catches his attention.

His head snaps to Castiel and his heart freezes and falls in his chest like a block of ice.

 

Cas is laying on his back, the demon sitting on his chest with all his weight, smirking as he holds the angel blade Cas lost in the fight above his body, ready to stab him right in the heart.

“No!” Dean shouts and faster than he imagined, his body drawn by an invisible thread to Castiel, he runs to the demon and at the exact second the tip of the blade dives into Castiel’s side and makes him have a strangled cry, he pushes the monster far away, rolling with him on the hard floor.

 

Dean doesn’t think twice, he grabs his knife and before the demon can even sit up, he dives it into his guts, twists it as he clenches his jaw, all his limbs threatening to break.

The demon’s eye sockets have a few orange sparks before he falls on the ground and only leaves another lifeless body. 

Dean is about to sit against the wall, all his strength gone God knows where when he remembers the blade and Castiel and his cry and the last time he saw him near Death and suddenly he rushes to the angel.

 

A second after he’s above Castiel who is still laying on his back, his eyes shut tight and Dean already imagines the worst.

There’ll be a bright flash of blue light and then he will be gone.

Forever.

 

His heart thunders behind his ribs and his hands flutter before him as they cup Cas’ face, whispering his name in some kind of hissed, desperate prayer.

The angel’s eyelids flutter and his eyes open wide, surprised as he sees Dean’s worried face a few breaths away from him. The hunter has a strangled breath of relief. “Are you OK?” he asks, his voice raspy and broken. 

Castiel would check on his wound but he can’t take his eyes off Dean’s, so close and so hurt in this moment he forgets the sharp pain in his side. “I’m alright.” he whispers.

 

Suddenly, Dean’s hands leave his face and they make him sit and then his arms are wrapped around his shoulders, his fist gripping his coat tight in the back.

Cas’ eyes open even wider as one of his hands grips Dean’s jacket on his side and he feels the hunter’s sigh of relief, and realizes his face is buried against his neck, his breaths hot and rapid. 

When he moves away Castiel barely holds back a sob of surprise and relief. Then the reality snaps back to him and he looks behind Dean, suddenly aware of his surroundings.

“Sam” he mutters and Dean turns back, before he curses under his breath and walks fast to his brother.

“Sorry” he says, quickly grabbing a piece of tissue that was hanging to dry near him. He rips it and wraps it around his brother’s leg as this one winces of pain.

“T’s OK” he mutters before he has a crooked smile and looks behind him and his eyes catch Castiel’s, who is sitting right behind Dean, his eyes full of worry over Sam. He looks back at Dean with a happy grin. “At least you two are alright now.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Shut up” he says before he turns to Castiel, and instinctively his voice and features become softer. “Cas, help me getting him up.” 

The angel nods and together they grab Sam around the waist and make him stand, making sure his wounded leg doesn’t get even more hurt.

 

As they walk out, Dean realizes his heart hasn’t slowed down and something aches in his soul when he realizes Castiel almost died.

 _Again_.

 

He swallows down hardly and glances at Cas above Sam’s shoulder, only to see he’s already staring at him, a faint tired smile on his lips. Dean can’t help but smile back, and together they hobble to the front yard.

 

After Dean and Cas both went to take back the cars, they drive Sam to the nearest hospital, with the younger Winchester protesting like a child.

As the Impala rips through the air like a black arrow, Dean glances at the rear-view mirror and sees that Castiel’s truck is still following him, and he allows himself to have a sigh of relief.

 

Both his brother and Cas are alive. _He_ ’s alive. This day didn’t go as he planned, but for once, just once, Death stayed out of his path.

 

X

 

A few hours later they’ve stopped at a near motel, wanting to make Sam rest as soon as possible.

The doctors said Sam’s wound was looking worse than it actually was and that it wasn’t nothing a little bandage couldn’t fix. Sam wanted to help them going back to the house and get rid of the bodies but Dean used his “mom voice” as Sam would say, and made him lie down in of the beds before Cas and he took care of the demons’ remains.

 

He is now standing outside under the neon lights, breathing in the fresh air of the night, enjoying the silence wrapping itself around his tired bones.

 

There’s a soft noise as the room door opens and a few moments after, Castiel comes to stand next to him.

“He’s sleeping" he says and Dean gives him a smile, thankful the angel watched over his brother as he took some time for a shower and grabbed some food, though he didn’t have the strength yet to sit down and eat. “It looked like he was having pleasant dreams” he adds.

Dean has a little laugh. “Good for him.”

 

Silence falls over them and suddenly the thoughts come rushing in, and Dean’s smile fades away. The ache in his heart is back and he realizes what he did, or rather didn’t do, under similar circumstances. His head slowly turns to Castiel, who has closed his eyes under the night breeze, his head resting against the wall.

“Cas?” he asks. 

Castiel opens his eyes and turns to look at him, his blue irises shining through the night. “Yes?” 

Dean lowers his head, suddenly shy and unsure and stumbling on his own words under the angelic stare. “I’m sorry” he blurts.

Castiel frowns. “Dean I told you it was alright.” His eyes darken. “I can’t blame you for the feelings you don’t have.”

 

 _That_ is what pulls all the strings in Dean’s heart.

 

He suddenly moves and comes to stand in front of Castiel, clenching his fists on his sides. The angel raises his eyes to him, unsettled. “Dean?” 

“Cas, listen” Dean snaps and he feels like his whole body is trembling. “I’m not… good at words, OK? I don’t know what to say and when to say it, and every time I try, it only makes things worse.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to act like that the other night. I wanted to-” He stops, takes a deep breath before he dares to look at Castiel in the eye. “Please let me.” 

Cas slightly tilts his head on one side, frowning of confusion. “What?” he asks in a coarse voice.

“Let me stop talking” Dean says, making a step closer.

Castiel doesn’t just see the small space between them, he _feels_ every thread of air floating between their bodies, every atoms dancing as he raises his eyes to Dean, his breath caught in his throat.

“Alright” he whispers, unsure of Dean’s intentions, thinking he just doesn’t want to open up about his feelings and is about to leave.

 

That’s why his surprise is even greater when Dean’s lips crash over his, the hunter’s eyelids shut tight as he gathered his strength and swallowed back his fear.

 

Castiel’s eyes open wide and he needs a moment to react, because he can believe everything that’s happening in this Universe but not _this_.

_Not this._

 

And then he realizes it’s all real. He can feel the warmth of Dean’s body against his own as the hunter’s hands grabs the lapels of his coat and he draws him closer, deepening the kiss, their lips half open as they breathe into each other. He can feel Dean’s back strong when his hands land lightly on it, when he moves forward to taste him even better.

The neon lights flicker as his grace shakes into his bones and he never felt more powerful. No matter how many wars he ever fought, no matter how many worlds he saw crashing down in flames, nothing ever made him feel more alive and strong and _endless_ as this one moment.

Dean’s hands move to frame his face, as he already did when he thought Castiel was hurt, but this time he’s not, he’s fully healed of all the wounds that opened after that one fateful night. 

His body is pressed against his and even though he doesn’t speak, Castiel can hear every word he was struggling to find and through that luminous bond they share, through his fingertips that dive into Dean’s back, through his lips that move against his, he tells him it doesn’t matter.

 

He is the little soul he pulled from Hell and no words could have ever predicted how deeply this small handful of light would change him.

And no words could express how whole and how holy and how infinite Castiel felt under the stars and Dean Winchester’s warm breaths.

 

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
>  
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> Visit me on Tumblr: atenebrae


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